Fail-Safe
by awordycontradiction
Summary: Amy couldn't say she was at all surprised that this is how they ended up. Agreeing to a date with Jake Peralta was cause for alarm entirely on its own. But the home invasion and bloody carpet aside, Amy was glad they did it.


Amy squirmed rigidly. Her breath came out in hot little huffs that had the man pressed against her chuckle. He was unbelievable. _This _was unbelievable. She knew it was a mistake going out with him. _No._ The real mistake was taking him up on that stupid bet in the first place. – _but that car of his _–

"Easy tiger." Jake whispered once he heard her groan in utter, defeated annoyance.

"How" – Amy hissed through gritted teeth – "are you so calm right now, Peralta?" She demanded.

She felt Jake shrug. Their backs were pressed tightly together, and if this wasn't so life or death, she might have been gagging at the thought of physical contact. The thin material of his shirt was starting to itch her bare arms, she kept thinking of what would happen once she needed to use the restroom – and she was, of course, starving. Now Amy wished she just scarfed down that tartif-_whatever_ when Jake offered it to her earlier.

She didn't care that he forced – well in the general sense – Charles to cook dinner for the two of them anymore. Amy was through caring about anything until she was untied and those jerks with her gun were locked up in holding, looking at life.

Peralta started to hum, the sound only mildly annoying. Amy was trying to concentrate. She let her body relax momentarily. She felt Jake breathe from behind her, the action causing their backs to press more tightly together. There was a part inside of the young detective that liked that he was there. If she had to be part of a pathetic home invasion, she was glad she was with someone who knew what they were doing. – she said that begrudgingly– She was completely placing the blame of this insane notion on their current situation. She had her guard down for _ten _seconds with Jake and look what happened! He led them straight into danger.

Or, well, _ordered_ it.

"Ow!" Jake growled. "Your shoulder is_ so_ boney."

Amy clicked her tongue. Jake couldn't see her, but he could only imagine that adorably offended face she always pulled. The one that made her eyes all big and her nose scrunch up.

"Maybe _you're_ the one with boney shoulders." She tossed at him, her head craning to its limit. She wanted to glare at Jake, wanted some part of this to feel normal.

"What are you doing?" He whispered, once she started to shuffle her body again.

"Keep quiet!" Amy barked. "I'm trying to get to my pocket knife. If only I had a little more room."

"That's really hot." Jake grinned, receiving an unreasonably harsh push.

"Can you take _anything _seriously?" Amy practically shrieked.

Jake leaned his head back so that it pressed firmly against the back of Amy's. He rolled his neck, she could feel her hair tangling into his.

"I guess not." His amusement deflated.

They were quiet for a few minutes. Amy stopped fighting the duct tape. The only sound was Craig Loomis and his sidekick back in Jake's kitchen. They were silent, just long enough for Amy to start feeling guilty.

"Hey Amy?"

She always winced when he called her properly. It made him seem human, like they weren't just co-workers who fought a lot and _sometimes_ had each others backs. When he treated her like a person and not a verbal punching bag, things always felt... different.

"What?"

He sighed. "I'm sorry I got you into this. That bet was stupid. _I just_- well, I shouldn't have made you go through with this."

"Why did you?" Her voice cracked, but she genuinely wanted to know.

He had thought up this whole scheme a few months ago, _willingly_ let her pick her prize, twitched just slightly when she staked her claim on his baby. But Santiago always assumed he wanted a date with her because he knew it bothered her so much. He took so long in answering, that she thought he wasn't even going to.

"Come on-" He practically scoffed. "You know why." The rest came out more gently.

She thought she did. Amy knew what she wanted to believe. But there was that little nagging sensation in the pit of her stomach. She got it when he called her pretty or when he took the time to talk her out of one of her infamous neurotic breakdowns. It was the same sensation she had right now. It told her that this wasn't friendly, and Jake wasn't just trying to piss her off.

It also told her that _that_ was why she let him win. –though that voice was much smaller– Amy Santiago could have made those six extra arrest with her hands tied. She rolled her eyes with the irony, wiggling her trapped hands. But the weeks leading up to the new year, and Jake on another one of his hot streaks, the idea was planted in her brain, when Rosa asked what _would_ happen if they went out.

Amy had watched Jake carefully, with three days to go. He held the door open for an elderly woman who lost her purse on the city bus, he brought the whole team coffee when they had a drug bust that dragged them through the dirty streets into the early morning hours. He wasn't half bad when he believed no one was watching.

Santiago couldn't get the idea out of her head, and it caused her to subconsciously slip up. So on January second, bright and early, Jake was looming over her desk a fake smile of sympathy stretched across his wide, narrow lips, like clockwork. He was digging through his jeans for a piece of paper that he quietly pushed across the desk to her. Amy looked up, confused, but he just walked away, yelling a _'Morning Santiago' _over his shoulder.

And here they were. Tied up, back to back on the carpet of Jake's living room floor. She was surprised when he invited her over, knowing she wouldn't want to be seen in public. Even more surprised when she saw how much effort he put into making the night special. Those fake, holiday candles that lit up with a click of a button, a checkered tablecloth, and Charles' best effort at authentic French cuisine.

She felt a little better when he hated it as much as she did. Finally felt comfortable when he opted to buy an extra cheesy, pepperoni pie and poured her some stale red wine in a plastic NYPD cup that the team received as a memento at _every_ Holiday party.

But then Craig Loomis, a notorious drug dealer that Jake busted two years before and fresh parolee knocked on Peralta's door. Three slices of the pizza already missing – to Jake's utmost disgust – he swiped Amy's gun – okay, her fault for leaving it on the table _next_ to the door – and found this the perfect payback.

It was a sad coincidence that he _just _so happened to be working as a delivery guy at the pizza place Jake ordered from regularly. – you know, since Sal's was still under construction – A fact that Peralta didn't forget to mention bitterly, while Loomis' crony, Albert Stanley, – a prison buddy who did some time for cocaine possession a couple of months ago – tied the two detectives together.

"I know you don't like me like _that_, but it really hurts a guy's ego to be left hanging." Jake teased, only half serious. Hopefully. Amy blinked. Forgetting that they were in the middle of a more than awkward conversation.

"Sorry." She mumbled. What else was she supposed to say? So Peralta liked her. The fact had a smile morphing on her face, which she was glad he couldn't see and groaned, remembering where they were and _what_ was happening.

"But when we get out of this, Santiago," – his good mood returning – "you owe me a _real_ date."

"Do I?" Amy couldn't help snorting.

"Uh, _yeah._ You're practically costing me my life because you wouldn't eat Charles' beautifully prepared dinner." Amy sighed.

"I'm totally telling him, by the way. He'll be crushed."

"_We're_ going to be crushed if we don't come up with a plan to get out of here."

Jake sighed. "You're right. Okay. Two of them, two of us. They've got your gun," – there was an accusing edge – "but we're smarter than those bozo's." Amy laughed. They were doomed.

"How's the pocket knife expedition going?" He asked, missing her negativity.

Amy sighed. "It's no use."

Jake puffed out his cheeks and arched his back, causing a surprised gasp from his partner. He shushed her harshly and a second later, Amy felt his hand graze her _very_ upper thigh. She hissed a_ Peralta_ but he ignored her. Amy realized he was going for her pocket and she moved into him abruptly.

"Seriously, if we weren't tied up right now..." She heard Jake breath into her ear, and against her better judgment, Amy laughed.

"How's our time looking?" He asked, painfully moving his hand.

Amy turned her head in the opposite direction, Loomis and Stanley were crouching over Jake's small kitchen table, their heads were together, deep in conversation. Probably forming a plan.

"They're preoccupied. But hurry."

Jake grunted, and Santiago felt the slim, black knife start to slide from her jean pocket. She pushed into him more, trying to give him the best angle, and after what seemed like forever, it slipped out, awkwardly held in a vice like grip between Jake's thumb and ring finger. Amy's head whipped back towards the kitchen. Loomis was missing. She grabbed onto his arm, that was linked in hers quickly, stopping him. But Loomis walked back into view a moment later, a slice of pizza in his hand. Amy's stomach growled, longingly.

"Go." She whispered, and she heard the knife pop swiftly, as Jake started sawing the tape between them.

When the tape on their left side, obscured from their invaders was cut, and Amy could finally breathe normally, she asked, in the lowest voice she could, "What now?"

Jake grinned, he could hear the excitement in her. Being trapped and patient wasn't Santiago's strong suit, and he knew if she had the chance, Amy would finish them.

"My gun's in my room." Jake nodded towards the closed door on their left.

Amy gauged their position, to that of the farthest closed door. She could do it, she could run in, get it and run out. But what if they looked into the living room and saw Jake, alone. They'd shoot. She read Craig Loomis' report. He was certifiably insane.

"We should go together." She whispered.

"What? No." Jake leaned his body, so he could now look at her.

There was no fear in Amy Santiago's features. There was a burning intensity in her dark eyes, but he knew that wasn't for him, but for those SOB's in his kitchen.

"You go. They'll definitely notice if we're _both_ missing."

Amy glared at him, "They will notice one of us is gone, too. And I'm not going to be blamed for you getting shot."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Careful, Santiago, it might actually seem like you care."

His tone was light, but Amy couldn't ignore that sensation in her stomach. Her brown eyes met his, and there was a jolt in her chest. Their close proximity, the way his eyes seemed to soften and smolder. She knew he noticed her glancing down at his lips a half dozen times, it was all so annoyingly cliché and Amy was not going down like that. She averted her gaze. Jake cleared his throat.

"Look-" He started. But the loud footsteps coming from the kitchen silenced them.

"How'ah the lovebirds doin'?" Craig squatted in front of them, – the side that was still taped together – and set his sights on Amy.

"You know, lover boy over here _tawked_ about _ya_ non stop during my interrogations, what? Two years ago." He chuckled, his thick accident, and pizza breath making Amy nauseous. "I gotta commend Jake here for finally landing _sucha_ babe."

Amy cringed. Jake grabbed her hand, on the other side, trying to calm her down or restrain her, she wasn't sure. Jake could see Amy's issued gun peaking out of Loomis' back pocket.

"Leave her alone, Loomis. This is about me. I'm the one that caught you. Amy only wishes she could be as awesome as I am." Jake titled his head, staring at the drug dealer. Santiago rolled her eyes, removing her hand from Peralta's.

"You right." Craig nodded, reasonably. He stood again.

"I've been tryin' to think of what to do with you. Jake, ya took two years of my life. Killing ya seems so easy. Ya know?"

Jake nodded. "Yeah. Totally." He sighed, like he understood how conflicted the man was.

Amy felt the cool brush of her knife close enough to her hand, where her fingers could wrap around it. Loomis wasn't paying attention to her, his eyes only for Jake. She grabbed the pocket knife swiftly.

"But," Jake said. "if you kill me, or Amy, you're going back to jail. I don't want to fill out the paperwork." Jake groaned. "My new Captain, he's_ so _unreasonable with how I do things."

Amy noticed that Stanley wasn't in the kitchen, she looked around, but heard the bathroom door lock. It was two against one now. Amy's fingers tightened on the knife's handle. Loomis was angled so that if she acted now, Jake could probably grab her gun before he could. Peralta just needed to keep him talking, not that it would be difficult.

"You thought I was good, right, Loomis?" Jake asked.

"Sure." The man nodded. "Ya found me fast." Jake beamed up at him, for the praise.

Amy took a deep breath making sure Jake sawed the tape all the way and closed her eyes.

"You know, I just feel so under appreciated sometimes." Jake shrugged his shoulders.

Amy acted on her instincts. She turned so quick, neither man was expecting it. She sliced his calf, a hiss was heard and then Loomis was on his knee, clutching his now bleeding leg.

"_Ah_, Amy! Not on the carpet!" Jake groaned while swiftly removing the gun from the injured man's pocket.

Santiago shrugged. And as Craig Loomis began to call for his partner, Amy smacked some of the duct tape from her wrists around his mouth, motioning for Jake to give her the roll near the lamp. She had a sadistic pleasure wrapping the tape tightly around his arms and legs. Jake was already at the bathroom door, waiting to pounce as Albert Stanley came out of the room, wiping his wet hands on his dirty sweatshirt. – Jake was surprised that villains even washed their hands – His eyes were wide at the sight of Loomis hogtied on the floor, but as he went to run over, Jake pressed the gun to his temple firmly.

"Not another move." He whispered dangerously. Stanley gulped and Jake winked at Amy.

* * *

Jake strolled passed the entrance barrier pressing Craig Loomis handcuffed arms behind his back. There was a satisfied smile on Peralta's face, and as he handed off the drug dealer to the holding guy, he turned to face the team staring at him, questioningly. Their sights flashed to Amy, still in the pretty, soft pink tank and blue jeans, escorting Phil, – another officer – and Albert Stanley back into the holding cells.

"And make sure they're separated." Amy called over her shoulder while she walked back out, to face them.

"Hey guys."Santiago smiled, awkwardly. She stood next to Jake, arms crossed in matching stances.

"What the hell happened?" Rosa spoke first.

Jake looked at Amy, and she looked back at him. "Just business as usual." He grinned, still staring at her.

Terry needed _all_ the details, and Charles kept asking if there was enough sugar in the mixed berry Sorbet. Gina continuously side eyed the two. Which Amy, with a sinking feeling, realized that Rosa wasn't exaggerating. Gina really _did_ place bets on if they slept together. The sour expression led her to believe that Gina put money on a yes.

Sculley and Hitchcock listened attentively as Jake reenacted his _awesomely amazing_ throw down, where he saved the day, got the girl and kicked some ass. Amy let him talk, rolled her eyes only a few times. Jake had her back, and was okay with her taking the lead. She supposed he could have this. Santiago was still thankful that the two vendetta craving lunatics were such schmucks.

Captain Holt walked into the nine-nine a few minutes after Jake finished his little victory speech. He looked as indifferent as ever. But, _well._ Amy liked to believe their was real concern in his dark eyes. He called the two into his office, shutting the door behind them.

"What happened?" He asked, his deep voice leveled.

"Well, Sir-" Amy started.

"Amy saved my life, Captain. We were at my apartment and this guy I busted a few years ago, he delivered a pizza, realized who I was, and kept us tied up for a few hours. Amy thought on her feet, well, you know, sitting down. We _were_ tied up and all – Anyway, we caught the bad guys, and they are looking at life for abduction of police officers." Jake finished with a smile.

He slung an arm around Amy's shoulder and looked very pleased with himself. Amy was touched, that he gave her the credit, where it mattered most to her.

"Is this all true, Santiago?" Holt questioned.

Amy looked up at Jake, then back at her captain. "It was a team effort."

Holt's lips moved, slightly. Amy pretended it was a smile.

"Why were you two together in the first place?" Holt asked, innocently.

"Uh-" Amy stammered.

"We're in love Captain." Jake's voice deepened. "I'm thinking of asking her to go steady with me. But only with your purest blessing, of course."

He was trying not to laugh, and Amy had her hand covering her face, mortified.

"Hm." Holt grunted, his hands laced on the table, the same indifference layering his face.

"We're _not_ in love, Sir. See, it was all part of this bet-"

"Yes. Gina has filled me in." Amy blanched. Jake laughed.

"Go home, get some rest. You can write up your reports tomorrow." Holt changed the subject.

Amy was about to protest, say she didn't mind getting the work done now, convince him that she really didn't even want to be on a date with Jake, but he spoke over her.

"Thanks Captain!" Jake sang, pushing Amy out the door.

* * *

They walked out together. It was around midnight, and Amy was exhausted. The loud, city night kept them company as they walked down the street together.

"Thanks for saying that to Holt." Amy nudged his shoulder.

Jake shrugged. "Thanks for letting me take all the credit with the guys."

Amy laughed. "Don't mention it. I'm sure none of them believed you, anyway."

Jake moved swiftly in front of her, stopping Amy abruptly. She collided with his chest, and pushed off, annoyed.

"Do you ever think you could like me?" Amy's eyes widened, an insult dying on her tongue.

"Because I'm trying, really hard here, Santiago."

Amy stared up into his brown eyes. Most of his face, and hers, were hidden in the shadowy lengths between street lights. Their breath came out in vaporized puffs, the air was getting colder. But she could see the worry on his face. He was embarrassed, and Amy found it surprisingly sweet.

"Jake.." She sighed.

"I made that bet with you, because I knew it was the only way I could ever get you to see that I was serious. I had this whole thing planned out. Boyle helped. I mean, thank _god_ you didn't go into my room, I would've had some _things_ to explain.." Amy rose a brow.

"Look, what I'm trying to say is, I think you're great, Amy."

Santiago crossed her arms and looked down. Jake scratched the back of his neck, feeling stupid. Then, without warning, Amy leaned into him, his lips ready to be kissed. The loud clank of their gun holsters crashing against each other, made the two pause. Amy blushed and Jake grinned.

It was so them.

She opted for kissing his cold cheek, and it seemed to be enough for Peralta.

"So." She laughed, nervously. "Wanna go get that pizza you promised me?" She snuggled deeper into her jacket.

"You're not too tired?" Jake asked.

"Never for the man who saved my life." Amy teased. "Could you tell me again how the flame throwing vodka bottle and Mayor Bloomberg all worked its way into our date again?"

Jake grinned. "Sure!" He tossed his arm over her shoulder as they walked down the dim and lightly snow powdered street.

Amy couldn't say she was at all surprised that _this _is how they ended up. Agreeing to a date with Jake Peralta was cause for alarm entirely on its own. But the home invasion and bloody carpet aside, Amy was glad they did it.


End file.
